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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29678316">I May Not Live to See Our Glory</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianettes/pseuds/lesbianettes'>lesbianettes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fear, First Aid, Gen, Head Injury, Marjan Whump, Spinal Injury, Trauma, Whump, canon typical gore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:47:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,253</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29678316</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianettes/pseuds/lesbianettes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Marjan gets hurt on a call</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mateo Chavez &amp; Marjan Marwani</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I May Not Live to See Our Glory</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The fire is a five-alarm, as severe as they get, overtaking an apartment. As crazy as the fire is, there’s still people inside, still people in need of rescue, so Marjan is the first to adjust her helmet and strap on her oxygen tank. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not safe in there,” Owen warns. He’s putting on his tank as well. “I can’t ask anyone to go inside.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to ask.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like always, she’s already overheating inside her coat. These turnouts are designed to protect them from the flames, but they trap heat inside like nothing else. She’s swimming in her own sweat before they step to the front entrance of the building. Mateo grabs the back of her coat in reassurance. They’re paired up. No one goes into these things alone, so of course their house is paired off into Mateo and Marjan, Paul and Judd, and Owen and TK. Between the six of them, they’ll make quick work of clearing each floor. The first has already been evacuated, and another house has the second, so the 126 splits off higher up. Mateo and Marjan wind up on the fifth floor of eleven, banging on doors and telling people to call out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Place is empty,” Mateo says after they’ve cleared half the floor with no survivors found. They’ll look for remains after the fire has been put out, but for now the search is for those who can still make it out. “Are we sure another house hasn’t cleared it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not marked, so we look.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They continue picking their way through the halls until they’ve circled back around to the stairs with no found survivors. Mateo starts up the stairs to six while Marjan grabs her radio. Paul and Judd call out they found two survivors on the whole floor, leading out now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marwani and Chavez 126 cleared the fifth floor. No survivors. Headed to six.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her foot misses a step and before she can grab at the railing, she’s falling. She has time to curse before her back slams against one of the steps and the pain whites out her vision. But it doesn’t end there. She makes it to the bottom of the flight, some dozen steps down, right next to the encroaching flames. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marjan!” Mateo cries. She hears his steps sprinting to her. She tries to get up and check herself over, but her legs don’t respond to her commands. Oh no. Oh fuck. She can’t move her legs. She sucks in a deep breath that doesn’t feel like it fills her lungs and reaches blindly for Mateo. He kneels beside her and takes her hand. “Are you okay? Can you stand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughs breathlessly. “I can’t move, Mateo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He brings his radio to his mouth with his free hand. “Chavez 126 requesting immediate assistance at the north stairwell, fifth floor. Paramedics and backboard if possible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Copy, Chavez,” Owen answers on the radio. “Strand and Captain 126 are en route with a backboard. What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marjan is glad for the oxygen mask over her face. It hides her tears. As loathe as she is to admit it, she’s terrified right now. She may never walk again. Her life could be over. No more firefighting, no more helping people, no more daring rescues. She’s going to be in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. Her breathing shortens, and she can’t tell if it’s residual from the injury or if she’s panicking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marwani fell down about a dozen stairs. She uh- she can’t move below the waist. She’s conscious and alert but needs immediate rescue.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a pause. Everyone must think she’s a complete idiot for falling, on top of now being helpless. Mateo squeezes her hand while they wait, refusing to leave her side or risk moving her even as the flames grow closer and hotter. He adjusts her oxygen mask and smiles a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Help is coming, Marj. It’ll be okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t have the breath to argue with him so she just tries to take mental inventory of her body. She can’t feel the lower half at all. Her chest hurts- probably a couple broken ribs from the fall, which would explain her difficulty breathing. Her left arm hurts and she can’t move her shoulder without extreme pain. Her head hurts and she can feel her hijab is wet, though she’s not sure if it’s from sweat or blood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>TK and Owen arrive, carrying a backboard with straps on it. Owen has a c-collar slung over his shoulder. They kneel next to her and TK fixes the c-collar around her neck while Owen takes her pulse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know where you are?” he asks. His hand comes away from her body slick with blood. So she definitely hit her head bad. “Marjan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The building on fire,” she says. “I don’t remember the exact address. Five alarm, eleven stories. I’m on the fifth floor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s good, Marjan, that’s good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He and Owen carefully shift her onto the backboard and secure the straps over her body to make it safe to carry her down to the first floor to exit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What year is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“2021. Biden is president.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen and TK carry her down the stairs, careful not to tilt her too much, with Mateo walking alongside them and holding her hand. He doesn’t want her to be alone. She’d find it sweet if she wasn’t so frightened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re doing great, Marwani,” Owen praises.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughs a little and then coughs, red painting the inside of her oxygen mask. That’s not good. She turns to Mateo, trying to find the oxygen to explain to him something is wrong. He meets her eyes and then sees her mask. He clears his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cap, she just started coughing up blood.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s hurry and get her to Tommy then.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They speed up going down the stairs, jostling Marjan slightly, but she can’t bring herself to say anything about it. They’re trying to help her. She can’t do anything but lay there as they get her out of the building and to the waiting paramedics. Immediately they’re taking her blood pressure, stripping off her turnout gear, taking her blood pressure, putting her on the ambulance monitors, getting ready to transport her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I ride along?” Mateo asks, still holding Marjan’s hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy nods. “Yes, you can ride, just stay out of the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nancy climbs into the front of the ambulance as Tommy joins Marjan in the back, closing the doors behind her. Tommy switches her oxygen mask for a clean one hooked up to the ambulance and splints her arm, but otherwise seems to be mostly keeping an eye on her vitals on the way to the hospital. There’s not much to be done here, Marjan supposes.  Her chest seizes and she has time to let go of Mateo’s hand and remove her mask before coughing up blood this time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marjan,” Tommy says carefully, “You likely have a pneumothorax. I’m going to have to put in a chest tube to drain some of the blood so you can breathe better, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s usually something not done until the ER. Marjan must really be in bad shape. She nods and looks away as Tommy gives her painkillers and lifts her shirt to slice open her side and insert a tube. Blood pours out of it and onto the ambulance floor. Marjan means to tell Tommy she needs a female doctor, but before she can, her vision begins to fade to black.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>tumblr/twitter/insta @milkymarjan</p></blockquote></div></div>
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